


goodbye, yellow brick road

by peachperson



Series: cerise's fe: fates drabbles [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, boy howdy do i love suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:09:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6846475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachperson/pseuds/peachperson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the secrets between them are not made for keeping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	goodbye, yellow brick road

**Author's Note:**

> i did use support dialogue just to lead into the main story so there's that

"Really?" grins the retainer. "I'm flattered! So would you care to join me for a cup of tea? We can continue getting acquainted."

The princess' golden eyes narrow slightly, a hint of expression on an otherwise stoic face. "It's a little late for that, don't you think? Everyone else is asleep."

How clever! Oh, but she's not like the woman he normally tries (and fails) at, oh no. Instead of harsh rejection, she leaves it open, merely a bit quizzical. Laslow can work with this. "Why, yes. I suppose you're right. Breakfast then? We can watch the sun rise together!"

She frowns, and makes to leave. "I think we both know you're hoping for more than a cup of tea. Please, excuse me."

"Wait! Lady Azura, at least let me escort you home! It could be dangerous!"

Ah, and he's utterly smitten.

* * *

"Dancing like that is unfair to the audience," Azura says, delicate voice steel-laced with her criticism. "Practice in secret all you want, but when you step on stage, you're there for them! You must dance with confidence so they can carry your strength into battle."

He stammers, and stumbles, indelicate compared to her. "I-I never thought of it that way."

"Well, you should. Now if you'll excuse me..." She is finished with what she says, and there's no getting her back. Despite this, he tries. Oh, does he try.

"Lady Azura, please...wait!"

* * *

She smiles! This is a victory; he's pulled a smile out of the normally emotionless princess. "Well, if you keep dancing like you did today, everyone will be asking you to dance."

He laughs in return. "I promise to save a dance for you, milady."

That same quizzical tilt of her head, and he falls in love all over again. "I wouldn't mind taking you up on that offer right now. What if I sing and you dance?"

"I would love that, milady. You shall be my inspiration."

"...And you shall be my muse!"

* * *

"May our song never end!"

* * *

A wartime wedding has still the potential to be joyous; they prove this with whirls and twirls about the mess hall floor. Laughter adorns the roofs like lights, but they only have eyes and ears for each other. She warbles a tune in a lost language, and he spins her in a manner reminiscent of a land dimensions away.

In this moment, their song will never end.

* * *

"I feel like I barely know you." Her voice is soft, almost inaudible above the rustle of their sheets and the rise and fall of breathing.

Laslow turns to face her, reaching out to stroke her face. "Why do you say that? Surely you know about me, if we're married."

Azura's brows crease, and her voice carries more than a hint of uncertainty. "It isn't that. I know you, of course. You're Laslow, best friends with Selena and Odin. You like to dance because your mother taught you. You flirt because you were shy as a child. You love tea and cakes in the early morning, and you always stay up past midnight, no matter the day."

"But--" and she pauses, and his heart stings at the look on her face.

(because he can't tell anyone, not even her.)

"--I feel like you're still a stranger, though we share the same bed. Who are you, Laslow? Will you tell me?" Are those tears, or the moonlight shining on pale gold eyes?

(would she even believe him?)

His teasing smile is gone now, and he whispers, quiet enough to be unheard, "I'm sorry."

"Please don't apologize. I know this is a sensitive topic for you." She reaches up and rests her hand on his, where it lies on her face. "I just...I wanted there to be no secrets between us."

(is that possible?)

* * *

She's Azura, closest friend to Corrin. Her mother taught her to dance and sing, and gave her that pendant. The song she was taught holds more than a flicker of magic. She loves strawberries and her favorite colour is gold, like her eyes. She smiles at ghost stories and laughs at the lamest of puns.

She feels like a stranger to him.

* * *

One night, he breaks.

"My name is Inigo," he says, and stumbles from there.

He was born in a far off land called Ylisse. His mother was a dancer from a place called Ferox and they called her the most mesmerizing singer in the army. He knew an army before this one, yes. His father was from a desert land and always smiled even when slinging hexes, but there was something sad behind that smile Laslow--Inigo--could never name and his mother only ever whispered about it. This isn't his real hair color. He had friends other than Selena--Severa--and Odin--Owain--and they came from a ravaged, horrific time far in the future of their world-

"Stop," Azura whispers, placing her fingers on his mouth. His cheeks are damp. Is he crying?

"May I tell you?" she says, and he nods mutely, _yes_.

* * *

She was born in a place she cannot name or speak of. Her mother ran from a wild usurper who ravaged every place he went, because there was no other fate for him. Her mother ran, and found refuge in a man, a king, who was kind but loved too much. He had many lovers and many subjects who hated her mother and Azura, hated each other, hated each other's children. They were surrounded by war between jealous lovers, and when her mother died, one day she ran away and never came back.

"I'm so sorry," he says, after a long silence.

"I am too," she replies, and their eyes both shine with tears.

* * *

They never speak of that night again, but there is an understanding between them, now. They know each other--Inigo of Ylisse, and Azura of a place between. They still hide secrets, of course, but they are not so heavy when the other share some of the burden.

(she keeps no secrets but two.)

* * *

one. valla.

* * *

two. she is a dead woman walking.

* * *

The thing that was once the prince of Hoshido and the being that claimed to be the king of Nohr are felled with divine weapons that gleam with darkness. The land celebrates, even as prince--king--Xander passes laws that anger a vocal minority and that Laslow is sure will help the country, in some time.

One day, the king pulls him aside, and looks at him with understanding in his eyes. "When are you leaving?"

"Soon. Certainly not without saying goodbye," he replies with a smile.

* * *

"Are you coming with me?" he asks his lady excitedly, even though he already knows the answer.

"Yes," she says simply, and he knows it's his imagination that her voice sounds weaker.

* * *

She leaves a week before.

* * *

There is no trace of her but what little material belongings she has. And on his bedside table; her wedding ring. It is as if Princess Azura was never here, as if the world merely played a sick joke on him.

* * *

"She told me--she told me she didn't want me or you to see her die," Corrin chokes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

* * *

They leave a week later.

Odin and Selena--Owain and Severa--were married, a few weeks after him and Azura, and Odin carries their cheerfully babbling daughter in his arms as they walk towards the Dragon's Gate. They have said their goodbyes and I'll come agains to their lords, exchanged gifts and hugs, and that isn't the spot where Inigo feels hollow, at least.

Occasionally Severa will shoot him a glance, and he grins at her. There is no point dragging them down with him, not when they are so happy.

He's good at concealing, anyway.

* * *

He's home.

It seals a hole he didn't know he had. Even the feeling of the wind is familiar. There are happy reunions and joyous tears, his mother actually crying as she runs to him, his father as cheery as ever, and even Severa and her ever-stoic father exchange a hug.

When Owain and Severa tell of their marriage, all eyes turn to him, the lonely one. The faces of his friends fall as some chuckles ripple around the group--third wheel, always unsuccessful with women--and Inigo smiles.

"No, it's alright. Mother, I think you would have liked her. Her name was Azura."


End file.
